


Crazy Random Happenstance

by misha_anon



Series: No Strings Attached [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Meetings, Laundry AU, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 02:57:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1371376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misha_anon/pseuds/misha_anon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel meet at a laundromat, bond over coffee and the relationship limitations of grad school, and end up back at Castiel's place with unfolded laundry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crazy Random Happenstance

**Author's Note:**

> I was literally incapable of titling this anything else and I am so sorry for that. _*lol*_

Castiel flips impatiently to the next page of the three-year-old _GQ_ with suspicious stains, shifting in the unforgiving plastic chair to try to get comfortable.  After three more minutes of the sound of clothes tumbling in the dryer he can't help glaring at the line of white-and-glass, wondering for the thousandth time this trip why he doesn't just buy new clothes instead of going to the laundromat once a week.

"So fucking _hot_ ," comes a gruff voice just as its owner drops like a ton of bricks into the chair next to Castiel's.

" _Excuse_ \- " Cas hisses, losing his train of thought mid-sentence when he turns his head to find himself staring into a pair of green eyes surrounded by flushed; sweat-sheened skin and freckles.

"In here," the man adds in a rush, a frown pulling at his features.  He blinks slowly and reaches up to run his hand through short brown hair before muttering,  "It's hot in here."

"It is," Castiel answers, forcing his eyes away from the stranger's face and back to his magazine.  He racks his brain for something to add, but comes up empty.  He shifts again when he realizes his thigh is pressed against the other man's and flips to the next page.

"There's a coffee shop at the end of the block?" the man says, the words coming out as a question.  When Castiel looks up, the gruff-voiced stranger is smiling tentatively at him.  "It's _probably_ cooler there and it _definitely_ doesn't sound like wheezy dryers."

"Okay, yeah.  Why not?"  Castiel says, sold on the invitation by the prospect of escaping the interminable grind of dryers.  "I'm Castiel," he adds as he tosses the magazine back to the three-legged table where he found it, "If you're interested."

"Dean," the other man says as he stands up and offers his hand to shake, his smile widening into a grin, "and interested."

Castiel avoids Dean's eyes when he shakes his hand, enjoying the pleasant rush of warmth through his chest at the introduction.

***

One cup of coffee stretches into three while Castiel learns that Dean is more than his stunning good looks; he's also a graduate student in chemical engineering who writes poetry for fun.  Best of all, he seems no less interested in Castiel's linguistics studies as they lament the pressures of grad school life.

"There's no time for relationships," Castiel grumbles, staring into his almost empty cup.  "It's too hard to find someone who doesn't hate me after three weeks because I'm always busy with something."

"No kidding," Dean commiserates, sighing heavily.  "Like anyone _really_ prefers studying to marathon sex."

When Castiel looks up from his coffee to meet Dean's gaze, he finds green eyes sparkling with mischief and a teasing smirk that send a rush of want straight through him.  Fifteen minutes later and with one hastily gathered basket of clean laundry each, Castiel is back at his apartment with Dean.

"I've never done anything like this," Castiel murmurs when Dean's hands find his hips nearly the second their baskets hit the floor.  He leans in, closing his eyes as their lips scrape together in a tentative kiss.

"That's okay," Dean answers, pressing another kiss before he moves to suck at the sensitive skin of Castiel's throat.  "I have."

Cas tilts his head back, one hand on the back of Dean's head to pull his sucking kisses harder and the other tugging at the hem of Dean's shirt.  In a whirlwind of chocolate-coffee kisses and impatiently removed shirts, they collapse in a heap on Castiel's couch; Dean's thigh coming to rest between Castiel's, grinding against his cock.

"Comfy?" Dean asks, his voice rougher than before.  He nips at Castiel's earlobe and presses his thigh a little harder.  Even as Cas struggles to get a deep breath to answer, Dean bites gently down the side of his neck.

"Not at all," Castiel finally croaks, splaying his hands across Dean's shoulders to pull him closer, hips arching to the pressure of his muscular thigh.  "But, I don't mind."

Dean chuckles, soft and dark against Castiel's shoulder then begins to slide downward.  His lips leave a wet trail down the center of Castiel's chest with a detour to each nipple.  The light scrape of teeth makes Castiel moan around the lip caught between his teeth and clutch at Dean's too-short hair to prolong the pleasure.

All too soon, Dean's open-mouthed kisses are moving down Castiel's stomach, his breath tickling fine hair as his tongue dips into Castiel's navel to tease.  Cas pushes his hand impatiently past Dean's jaw, fingers shaking as he tries to unbutton his jeans.

"Let me," Dean offers, pushing his face under Castiel's hand instead.  He looks up through long lashes; the green of his eyes almost completely replaced by his pupils as Cas takes his face in both hands, smoothing the hair that's been ruffled and tracing fingertips over his beautiful features.

Castiel is still studying the way Dean's freckles stand out against the flush on his cheeks when he feels his jeans and boxers being tugged at.  The teasing smirk settles back in Dean's lips as Castiel lifts his hips to help get his remaining clothes out of the way and when they're gone, Dean goes back to kissing.

His kisses are slower, biting and sucking at Castiel's stomach before moving to nuzzle at the base of his cock.  Cas gasps and pushes his cock toward Dean's lips, a soft whimper of pleasure slipping when the wet heat of Dean's mouth engulfs him half a second later.  He closes his eyes and pushes his head back against the couch as Dean begins to suck slow and hard.

" _Jesus_ ," Castiel whispers when Dean's big hands wrap around his hips, firm pressure to hold him still under the onslaught of tight lips and a nimble tongue.  Dean hums, a vibration that goes straight up Castiel's spine, tickling and sweet and coaxing a gasped, "That's good."

His hand molds to the top of Dean's head with no pressure, following his movements as he bobs more quickly up and down.  He hollows his cheeks and presses the flat of his tongue against the underside of Castiel's cock until Cas can't help squirming and growling breathlessly with pleasure.  The soft sounds of his enjoyment spur Dean on; he twists his head, thumbs pressing hard just inside Castiel's hipbones and rubbing.

Cas arches against Dean's hold, circling his hips the best he can between panted breaths and guttural "oh"s and "fuck"s.  Dean's pace increases, lips tight as they slip impossibly quickly up and down the shaft of Castiel's cock until it stiffens.  The breath whooshes from his lungs in a low groan as his body curls and Dean focuses on sucking mercilessly at the head of his cock, sending him flying right over the edge with fingers clenched against the couch and pulling at Dean's hair.

His cock jerks between Dean's lips, the relief of orgasm spilling out to curled fingers and toes as Dean swallows greedily, his own pleasured moans vibrating once more down sensitive flesh until Castiel is gasping like a fish on the shore.  He sucks long after there's nothing to swallow, wet heat again engulfing the length of Castiel's softening cock.  When he finally pulls off, Dean's breath comes ragged and short even as he begins to kiss his way back up Castiel's body with sticky lips.

Dean's shoulders are slick with a sheen of sweat under Castiel's wandering hands as he retraces his path until he's settled with a thigh between Castiel's legs again.  His cock is hard behind the rough denim of his jeans, his hips grinding in a steady rhythm as he presses his lips to Castiel's over and over.

"So," Dean drawls between kisses; his green eyes dancing with already familiar mischief, "you gonna tell me your last name or what?"


End file.
